


all the broken parts

by noctiphany



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Cuddling, Daddy Kink, First Time, Fluff, Healing Sex, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 18:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/noctiphany
Summary: He does want Slade to break him, but only so he can put him back together after. He thinks Slade might be able to do it right this time.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 327





	all the broken parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [projectfreelancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectfreelancer/gifts).

It’s not his first time. They both know it, they both know _ why. _And they both know why he needs this, to pretend like it’s the first time someone’s touched him like this, to make new memories, erase the old ones. 

“I’m not going to break,” he tells Slade, hates him a little because he keeps looking at him like he _ will, _ like he doesn’t get that Dick has been broken so many times that he has scar tissue holding him together. He’s tough. He doesn’t shatter so easily, not anymore. “I want this,” he says, touching the hand Slade has on his hip. “I want _ you. _”

“You can say you want to stop,” Slade says, leaning down to press a kiss to his sternum. “Any time. You understand? It doesn’t matter when or what we’re doing, if you want me to stop just -”

“_Slade, _” Dick grits out. He’s tired of having this conversation. Sometimes it feels like he’s been having it his entire life, counselors and friends and doctors and -- he just doesn’t want Slade to be that. He wants him to be something different, something better, maybe. Something good. “Please just fuck me.” 

He likes the way he can visibly see the breath Slade has to take, can feel the shakiness in it when he exhales against him and presses another kiss, this time to his throat. “Promise me,” he says, looking up into Dick’s eyes, and Dick rolls his eyes, still annoyed, but there’s a warmth filling him up too. The way Slade cares, the way he refuses to let Dick just push everything to the side and pretend everything is fine. It makes him uncomfortable most of the time, because it makes him feel special and Dick just. That’s not really a feeling he knows what to do with. 

“I promise,” he whispers, leans up and captures Slade’s mouth in another kiss, soft and sweet, pleading. “Please.” 

: : : 

The first finger is thick, and it doesn’t hurt, but it’s - 

“_No_,” Dick says and his skin is crawling and his insides hurt and he’s going to cry, no, he already is, and he hates himself, _ god _ he hates himself so much. “I mean, it’s fine. K-keep going.” 

But he already fucked up and Slade is already stopping, wiping the lube on his finger on the sheets and moving up the bed. He doesn’t say anything, just cradles Dick’s head and pulls him into him, lets Dick curl into his body and cry. Dick tries to say sorry, tries to tell him it’s not him, it’s just that he’s fucked up, but Slade won’t hear it.

“Shh,” he keeps saying, presses his fingers to Dick’s lips and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re doing good. We’re just gonna lay here until you’re ready to try again, or we can stop for the night and just do this.” 

Dick nods and clings to Slade’s chest, just presses his cheek there and listens to his heartbeat. He doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know yet. Well, he does. He knows he _ wants _ to try again, but he’s afraid of freaking out again and he doesn’t want to keep putting Slade through that. He’s already being too fucking nice to him, too patient, too everything. He doesn’t deserve this, to have to walk some stupid kid through everything like he’s made of porcelain. _ I’m not going to break, _ Dick had said, and he’d been fucking lying. He breaks all the time. And probably the worst part is, he usually wants to. This feels different though. He does want Slade to break him, but only so he can put him back together after. He thinks Slade might be able to do it right this time. 

“I’m sorry,” Dick says after a few minutes, after the tears have stopped and mostly dried on his cheeks. He sits up a little and presses his lips to Slade. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Slade gives him a look and Dick understands it, he knows he just asked a question that _ Slade _ should be, and has been, the one to ask multiple times, but Dick thinks it’s fair. He doesn’t want Slade to think this is going to be any easier, that he’s not going to freak out and panic every ten minutes or cry or want to run away. He can’t promise any of those things and he doesn’t think it’s fair to Slade to pretend otherwise. 

“I’m here,” Slade says, carding his fingers through Dick’s hair. “As long as you want to, I want to.” 

Dick nods, kisses him again, then lays back down. His eyes are closed when he hears Slade open the cap of the lube and his pulse starts to race again, just like before. He tells himself he can do it. That he trusts Slade. Slade’s a good person, Slade wants to take care of him, he wants him to feel good. Then he feels the pad of Slade’s finger, warm and slick, at his entrance and Dick’s inside twist up again. 

“Wait,” he says, panicked, and just like he promised, Slade pulls away immediately, sits back on his knees and gives him space, time. Which Dick takes this time instead of going immediately into panic mode and curling in on himself. He remembers to breathe, remembers where he is. He remembers that Slade would never hurt him. And this is proving, if he had any doubt before, that Slade would never do anything he didn’t want him to do. 

“Dick, we --”

“I think,” Dick says, opening his eyes and sitting up, looking at the small bottle of lube on the bed next to Slade’s knee. “Maybe I can do this part myself.”

Slade just nods and hands him the bottle, then places a kiss on the inside of Dick’s calf, lifting it up and setting Dick’s foot on his shoulder, helping him out with the angle. “Whatever you need,” he says, and Dick feels like crying again, just for a totally different reason this time. 

: : :

It’s better doing it to himself, of course. Easier in the sense that someone else isn’t touching him, but it’s different too, having Slade right _ there, _ watching. He smooths his hands up and down Dick’s thighs, murmurs encouragements to him, tells him he looks good like this, encourages him to make himself feel good, tells him, gently, when he thinks he can take another one. It’s heady and overwhelming, like Slade’s doing it, but _ not, _ and suddenly Dick realizes he’s so hard and turned on he’s got a wet puddle of precome on his stomach. 

“Slade,” he says, breathless. “Will you --- did I do it good enough?” 

“Let’s try another, baby,” Slade says, and Dick recognizes that wrinkle in his forehead, the concern in his eyes. Dick knows, logically, that Slade is much bigger than just two of his fingers, so he nods and Slade grabs the bottle, adding a little bit more lube to his fingers for him so he can try adding a third. He knows he _ needs _ to, but he doesn’t _ want _ to. Working himself open, having Slade right there, watching him, talking him through it, Dick is so turned on he almost comes as soon as he gets his fingers all the way inside of him. He can’t stop thinking about Slade inside of him, or even if these were Slade’s fingers inside him, all thick and scarred, stretching him open, getting him ready to take his cock.

“Please, I want,” Dick whimpers, hips flexing up to meet the twist of his fingers, mouth falling open in a gasp when he brushes a certain spot. “Oh fuck --”

He feels, well it sort of feels like he’s coming a little, but his dick only twitches against his belly. Above him, Slade chuckles. 

“Never felt that before?” 

Dick wants to glare at him, but he wants to feel _ that _ again even more. He’s done this to himself plenty of times, but it never felt like that before. Maybe it has something to do with the angle he’s at, or just the fact that Slade is here with him, making it all better. “N-no,” he pants, twists his hand and tries to do it again. 

Slade just grins and lifts Dick leg a little bit higher, raising his hips off the bed a little, and Dick can get his fingers in deeper at that angle and -

“_Oh - _”

“Yeah,” Slade says, his voice lower and deeper than before, eyes dark as he watches Dick’s fingers move. “Fuck yourself with them for me.”

Dick moans shamelessly, always loves it when Slade talks filthy to him, but it’s even dirtier now that he’s got three of his own fingers buried inside of him, Slade watching him fucking himself with them. 

“Slade,” Dick whines. “I just want -- I want you so bad, please, I need _ you. _”

“Mmm,” Slade says, running his hands up and down Dick’s legs again, soothing, encouraging. “You will. You’re doing so well. Just keep doing this for me. You look so fucking pretty like this, baby.” 

Dick whines and fucks himself a little harder, a little deeper with his fingers. At some point he closes his eyes, just concentrates on the little shocks of pleasure shooting through him, Slade’s lips on the inside of his knee, his calves, his strong hands around Dick’s thighs. He wants so badly for Slade to just pin him down and _ take _ him. He wants Slade to fill him up, to fuck him until he can’t think anymore. 

“God, I love all the sounds you make,” Slade rumbles and Dick didn’t realize he was making so much noise until he says that, but it just feels so _ good. _ The angle _ is _ better and Dick’s fingers are deep and its easier to hit that amazing spot inside of him and Slade is touching him everywhere, instructing him and encouraging him, and -- “I bet you could come like this.”

And Dick loses it. It’s not like any orgasm he’s ever had before, but usually his hand is on his dick, or _ something _ is. He’s never, ever just come from having something inside of him before and it’s overwhelming. His body quakes with it and clenches around his fingers and he can feel his cock spilling onto his belly and it’s so much, it’s so much, it’s --

“_Daddy,_” Dick sobs, tears falling down his cheeks. “P-please -”

He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but Slade does. Slade always knows. He pulls Dick’s hand away and cleans it off, then rearranges them so that Slade’s back is against the headboard and he pulls Dick into his lap, arms wrapped around Dick like a cage, lips pressed to his hair. 

“Shh,” he says. “You’re okay, you’re with me, Dick. You did good, I’m so proud of you. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

Dick loves the praise and he’s not -- he’s not _ scared _ , really, he’s just...overwhelmed. Everything felt like so much, like _ too _ much, and he didn’t know how to handle it all on his own. When he thinks about what he called Slade it makes him cry even harder because that, that’s even harder to explain, especially since he doesn’t really understand it himself. And then there’s the part where he feels embarrassed about it, but Slade didn’t look at him like he was gross and he’s not treating him any differently, so maybe it will be okay. It’s just, he feels so safe like this, wrapped in Slade’s arm. The way Slade’s been treating him through all of this makes him feel taken care of, makes him feel _ loved. _It just cements how much he wants this. 

Finally, he looks up at Slade, with no hesitation, no hidden fears and says, “I want you inside me.” 

: : :

The funny thing, it wasn’t the pain that scared Dick or made him freak out. He was expecting it to hurt a little, but he guessed since he had already come once and worked himself open for so long with his fingers that that was why it didn’t hurt so much once Slade started to push inside of him. It was a little weird and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like the horror stories he’s heard. He didn’t want to cry because it hurt so much, it just felt...a lot. Everything they had done tonight had felt like that, like it was almost more than Dick could handle. He couldn’t even say if it was good or bad, it was just so _ much. _A constant feeling of being overwhelmed. He just wants Slade to take control of everything, to do whatever he wants, to fuck him and hold him and take care of him, because Dick trusts him to do all of that. 

He _ trusts _ him. 

Dick thought he’d trusted Slade before tonight, he really had. But it occurs to him, as he has Slade’s cock filling him up, Slade’s big, heavy body hovering over his own, realizing how strong Slade is, how he really could do whatever he wanted and Dick wouldn’t be able to stop him -- that no, whatever he felt before wasn’t trust. This is. 

There are tears rolling down Dick’s cheeks again, but it’s okay. 

“I’m okay,” he says to Slade when Slade sees them, eyes widening. “I’m okay, I promise, don’t stop, please.”

And he means it this time, he’s not just saying it to make someone else happy, or because he doesn’t know what he wants. He really means it. This is what he _ really _ wants and that’s why he’s crying. Because Dick isn’t sure he’s ever really known what he’s wanted before, not when it comes to himself, his own body. 

“How do you feel?” Slade asks and Dick just grabs him by the neck, draws him in, and kisses him. 

“Fuck me,” he murmurs across Slade’s lips and as always, Slade gives him what he wants. 

Because Slade trusts that Dick knows what he wants, that he’ll tell him if he needs him to stop. That’s what this whole thing is about, really. Trust. Dick has to give all his trust to Slade, something he’s never fully been able to give anyone before, and in exchange, Slade has to be able to trust him too. Dick didn’t understand that at first, why it even mattered to Slade, but he gets it now. When you care about someone, you don’t want to hurt them, not ever. Dick thinks it’s sad he never truly realized that until Slade, but it doesn’t matter. Everything before doesn’t matter. Tonight, they’re overriding all of that with new memories, new feelings. 

“Oh fuck, _ there._”

Really, really good feelings. 

Having Slade inside of him isn’t at all what Dick thought it would be like. It’s not really better or worse, just different. It’s a lot, just like the stuff before, but it’s not _ too much. _Because Slade has him; his legs are hooked over Slade’s arms, Slade’s mouth is on his, kissing him, murmuring reassurance and praise, and he’s inside of him. He’s filling Dick up in more ways than just sexual, giving him more than new memories and good feelings. It might not be his first time, but it feels like it. Everything with Slade feels bright and shiny, brand new. He thinks Slade might actually be doing what he’d hoped, taking all the jagged pieces of him and putting him back together, making something beautiful out of him this time instead of leaving him like an old, raggedy doll with new stitches over the old ones. 

The good feelings build inside of Dick while his thoughts drift in and out, coiling hot and liquid in his belly. Slade’s lips are on his throat, sucking on the skin there, and moans keep falling out of Dick’s mouth uncontrollably, the pleasure rising so rapidly he can hardly keep up with it. 

“Slade,” he gasps, digging his blunt nails into Slade’s shoulders.”_ Slade._”

Slade pulls back and looks at him and Dick loves the way his face looks. Slade is flushed too, his lips a little swollen from all the kissing, and Dick doesn’t care how old he is, doesn’t care about his scars and his wrinkles, he’s beautiful. He’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. 

“I think I’m gonna...again,” Dick breathes out, answering the question in Slade’s eyes, which go dark and hooded again as soon as the words are out of Dick’s mouth. 

“Good,” he says. “Because I don’t think I can hold back any longer.” 

Dick grins and wraps his arms around Slade’s neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Slade growls, dipping forward to drag Dick’s bottom lip between his teeth. “You feel too good.”

Dick moans loudly when Slade starts moving again. It almost feels like he’s hitting him deeper this time, fucking the air right out of Dick’s lungs. It’s not fast, it’s just...steady. Slade’s grip steady on his hips, a steady pace, everything about him strong and certain and constant, something Dick can count on. His cock slides out of Dick, then all the way in, his eyes boring into Dick’s as he repeats the motions over and over as sweat beads up around his hairline. 

“You can call me that again,” Slade says, taking one hand off of Dick’s hip to cup his face as he rocks into him with slow, deep, steady thrusts. He brushes his thumb over Dick’s bottom lip as Dick cries out again, Slade’s cock hitting that oversensitive spot inside of him and making his thighs tremble. Dick knows what exactly what he’s talking about and his cheeks flush with color thinking about it, about saying that again now with Slade inside of him, making him into something new and beautiful. Dick bites into his bottom lip and Slade leans in and licks at the place his teeth had been, brushes his thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Daddy,” Dick murmurs, testing it out, and Slade shuts his eyes, leans forward and presses their foreheads together. 

“I’m going to come,” he says, not like a warning or a threat, but a promise. “Inside of you. You want that, baby?”

“Please,” Dick whines, gets his hand around his cock when Slade leans back, gets a rhythm going again. “I want it, I want to feel you, _ fuck, _Slade -”

Slade knocks Dick’s hand away and replaces it with his own, and Dick’s so glad. God, he loves Slade’s hands, loves the way he touches him, like he knows exactly what makes Dick feel good. 

“God, baby, you feel so fucking _ good_,” Slade rumbles out. His movements aren’t as steady anymore, they’re more erratic, frantic. Dick knows what Slade looks and sounds like when he’s getting close and this is it, beautiful and sweaty and desperate. Desperate for him, because of him. Giving this to Dick, helping him, making him feel so good, trusting him, validating him, just -

“I love you,” Dick gasps as it all fits together and he comes with a moan and sob, clutching at Slade’s shoulders as his body quakes, pleasure coiling and tightening and surging inside of him in waves, whiting out his vision as he spills onto his stomach, his chest, so much more than before, when it had just been his own fingers. Slade lets go before Dick wants him to, but it’s okay because then he’s really fucking into him, faster, harder, shooting spikes of pleasure up Dick’s spine, and he gets his own hand around himself, whining at the overstimulation, but never wanting it to stop, trying to wring every ounce of pleasure out before it’s over. 

Slade moans like Dick’s never heard him do before, not like the grunts or the groans whenever he’d suck him off or use his hand. It’s different, more desperation and vulnerability in his tone, and he collapses on top of Dick as his hips stutter and his cock pulses, and he’s coming inside of him, making him filthy. 

Making him beautiful. 

: : :

Dick didn’t expect any special treatment when they were finished, not any different than the other times they had messed around, but he doesn’t _ mind _ it either. Slade wipes him down with a wet cloth after changing clothes, then gets into bed and lets Dick curl up next to him. His favorite place is head on Slade’s chest, listening to the lub-dub-lub-dub of his heart, Slade’s fingers in his hair. 

“Are you okay?” 

Dick rolls his eyes even though Slade can’t see him. He figures he should’ve expected that question, but it seems _ obvious. _

“Sorry,” Dick says. “Did the coming so hard I got some of it on my chin not make that very clear?”

Slade chuckles and his chest shakes and rumbles with it. Dick wraps his arm around him tighter. 

“I’m good,” Dick answers seriously. “I’m so good.”

“Good,” Slade says and for the longest time they’re just quiet, and because his brain can never just sit with quiet, it starts filling his head with worries. Maybe Slade didn’t like it. Maybe he wished he hadn’t done it. Maybe he didn’t like the daddy thing, or god, the _ other _ thing Dick said. 

“If you fell asleep on me I’m gonna be mad,” Dick says, trying to ease the thoughts weaving themselves into knots in his head. 

“Not asleep,” Slade says softly. “Just thinking about how ridiculous it is that I’m in love with you.”

Dick grins so wide his face hurts and he has to turn and bury it in Slade’s chest to keep him from seeing the enormity of it. That felt -- that felt better than any sex stuff they’ve ever done. 

“Yeah,” he says, trying to play it cool. “Well. We’re pretty ridiculous, I guess.” 

Slade just chuckles, leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. “We are that.” 

Dick feels like he should say something else, something like _ thank you for knowing where all the pieces of me go, _but now he’s getting sleepy and he doesn’t want to move or think, he just wants to fall asleep on Slade, in his arms. Because he knows when he wakes up, Slade will still be there. 

“Tell me again,” Dick murmurs sleepily, snuggling closer to him as he starts to drift off, and Slade’s voices washes over him like a lullabye, words Dick never thought anyone could mean towards him, not just using them to get something, to bribe him, to make him forgive and forget. Words that he’d never cared about, never wanted to speak or hear. Until now.

“I love you, baby,” Slade says, easy as can be.

And the last broken piece falls into place. 

Beautiful. 


End file.
